


What Happens in the Down Under

by Tertbutyl_Okita



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Stranger Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Dungeons & Dragons References, F/M, Four Horsemen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tertbutyl_Okita/pseuds/Tertbutyl_Okita
Summary: Adam Young's disappearance prompts an investigation into the sudden supernatural occurrences that have begun to plague the town of Tadfield. It's up to four kids - including one with the ability to bring about an apocalypse, a biology teacher, a primary school librarian, a babysitter/clairvoyant, a math tutor/professional descendant, and two rather incompetent policemen to find Adam, and prevent the destruction of humanity.Or, a Stranger Things Good Omens AU





	What Happens in the Down Under

**Author's Note:**

> I write fanfiction and don't update periodically but I'm trying to change that. 
> 
> This includes - Obvious Stranger Things references, that one episode of Doctor Who with the guy who played Giles in Buffy, Pulp Fiction/The Umbrella Academy references, a sorry attempt at utilizing the British slang/education system, and a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. 
> 
> This might only appeal to me and my fellow GO/IT fandom friend (as always, thanks for plotting with me), but hey, I might as well see if others like it, too.

_Tadfield Air Base _

The night shift was bullocks, in Tim’s opinion. Who needed a scientist at midnight? These people did, apparently. But as long as it paid, all he had to do from 8 pm to 8 am to look through the glass divider for any signs of activity. Keep track of the monitors for any unusual occurrences. Of which there weren’t any – why would there be? This was government sanctioned, of course everything was safe!

He knew that when he applied for the job, when he saw the guards posted at every nook and cranny. There was even a guard stationed at the exit of the room right now. Although Tim could hear the faint snores coming from the guard. He figured he could cut the guy some slack. There had to be some time to catch up on sleep during the graveyard shift.

Speaking of breaks - Tim peered up at the wall to the clock; his next break was coming up. He just needed to take a few notes on the research in front of him.

Behind the divider was a circular airtight door, only opened when his fellow scientists wanted to explore whatever lay beyond it. Some may consider it an honor to go out beyond, but Tim just thought of them as unlucky.

Tonight, Tim saw nothing remarkable and noted it down accordingly. He didn’t need exciting during his shift. He needed a bag of crisps from the vending machine. Exciting was happening a floor above, where the rest of them were running a series of test on _that thing_. After seeing all the experiments conducted, he couldn’t even consider it a human being.

As he walked away, he failed to notice the most minuscule of cracks on the circular door grow even larger.

…

The vending machine was stuck. Tim tapped it once, twice, three times for good measure. His crisps refused to budge. He groaned leaned his head against the machine. The light above him, which was dim at first, began to blink intensely. Tim looked up at the light. It stopped flickering, and next, he heard the bag of crisps hit the bottom of machine. “Aha!” He cried out. Victory!

But before he could reach out and claim his prize, the machine itself began to shake. The flickering of the light started up again. He started to back away, slowly at first, until he saw how the darkness began to slowly advance along the walls and ceilings, just like a growing shadow. Then, from the darkness, two pale pinpricks of light looked directly at him. He could make out the outline of a skull from which those dots emanated from.

Tim bolted in the opposite direction. Behind him, the darkness only grew in size. His mind was racing alongside his heart. He could hear the emergency alarm blaring. Where were the other scientists? The guards? But as he ran, turning abruptly at a corner, his foot caught on something bony. As he looked down to pull his foot free, he saw a skeletal hand attached to the uniform of a guard. He screamed, and continued his sprint down the hallway.

There, up ahead, was the elevator. It would lead him to safety. He practically slammed into the elevator doors, and pressed hard at the button. Tim kept looking back at the encroaching darkness, with each second it took for the elevator to move downward.

When the elevator finally pinged its arrival and opened, Tim rushed inside, slamming his fist hard on the close elevator button. He was safe.

But even with the elevator shut, the lights began to flicker again, and the small elevator became darker, as the shadows slowly made their way through the crevice of the elevator door, towards Tim.

Tim backed away to the corner, but before he could scream, he heard the faintest of voices whisper in his ear.

“Don’t think of this as dying, Tim. You’re just avoiding the rush.”

* * *

_Madame Tracy’s basement_

“…Standing in the center of the room is a decrepit skeleton clad in tattered robes. Red pinpoints of light burn in the skeleton's eye sockets. "Do I know you?" it asks,” Pepper read off their latest destination in their current campaign. She peered around the table, the four children hunched over piles of D&D books, character sheets, and dice. They held their weekend D&D sessions in Madame Tracy’s basement, who, beyond her day jobs as a self-proclaimed clairvoyant and occasional secretary to Police Sergeant Shadwell, also moonlighted as the appointed babysitter to the Them. “So, what’s it going to be?”

Wensleydale, with his glasses and wizard hat both tipped over from staring down at the game set up in front of him, raised his head to speak. “I say we-,”

Adam interrupted him. “Doesn’t he have cool spell book? I say we take that.” He proudly nudged his Dragonborn Sorcerer figure forward. “Skip the introductions.”

Pepper sighed. “I would have suggested a more peaceful route, but very well.” She brings up her hand and slams a figure down onto the table. “The skeleton rises from its throne, and a wave of darkness surrounds the room. The skeleton is a lich! Time to fight.”

The four of them roll their dice for fight order, and Adam is the first to go. “Cast Sunburst.” Brian suggested. “Try to blind the skeleton.”

Adam studied the spell guide in front of him. The lich was within casting range. “Sunburst it is,” Adam agreed. “Adam the Great, with his trusty canine companion…” At this, he rubbed Dog’s ears affectionately, as he just awoken from a nap on Adam’s lap. “…spring forward, and a burst of light emerges from my staff towards the lich!” He indicated on the map where the spell would hit.

Pepper rolled a Constitution saving throw, and was about to inform Adam that unfortunately, the lich wasn’t blinded by the light and only took half damage, when a voice spoke from upstairs.

“Brian! Your parents called. Wensley’s parents also called more than once,” said Madame Tracy.

Wensleydale looked at the clock at the mention of his parents. “We’ve been down here for hours… I say we call it a night. The lich can wait another day.”

“Next weekend then. That spell book will be mine!” Adam scooped up Dog into his arms and set him down, the small canine yapping excitedly at finally getting a chance to move.

As the children began to pack up their belongings for the night, a thick, ominous fog settled over the town of Tadfield.

…

“So we’re going to bike through _that_?” Wensleydale said. The four of them stood at the front of Madame Tracey’s driveway eyeing the fog.

“Relax, Wensley. We’ll just turn on our headlights and if Dog spots any danger, he’ll bark! Just like when we first got to Barovia,” Adam referenced the start of their adventure, all those weeks ago. Dog sat in a basket in the front of his bike.

“But we couldn’t leave Barovia because of the fog,” Brian reminded them.

“Well in that case, last one home is trapped in the fog!” With that, Adam peddled off, in the direction of his home. He would probably be the last one home, anyway. He lived all the way on the other side of town, and he had to bike along the side of the Tadfield Air Base, as opposed to right through it, for a short cut. It was terribly inconvenient, but Adam never wanted to risk biking through there. His tutor, Anathema Device, frequently spoke about the possible government conspiracies that were secretly going on.

_“Those military-run aviation programs are a cover-up for aliens.”_

_“Aliens?” Adam said, wryly, over one of his tutoring sessions. “I thought you would have started with unnecessary nuclear power stations. _

_Anathema rolled her eyes. “It’s an airbase, Adam. Of course nuclear power is a given.” She tapped her pencil down on his homework. “Now divide those decimals!” _

Adam broke out of his thoughts and continued biking, with his friends debating about tomorrow’s plans in the background.

“You think Mr. Crowley would ever let me use his telescope?” Brian asked. Their science teacher was an astronomy enthusiast, and occasionally took their class out on nightly field trips to observe the stars.

Pepper scoffed. “Mr. Crowley didn’t even trust you to take care of a plant for a week.”

“I thought watering plants daily was a good thing!”

“Not for succulents!”

His friends’ chatter died down, as each broke off and turned on the streets of their respective houses. Now it was only Adam left. The fog was difficult to navigate, even with his lights turned on. Even the wind became chillier, with each meter that he biked. Tadfield weather always was abnormal, so it didn’t particularly bother him. But he did want to get home on time – his parents weren’t as relaxed as Pepper’s mother, nor were they overbearing like Wensleydale’s – he just knew that his mum and dad wouldn’t be too pleased if he came home late on a Sunday. He considered asking Madame Tracy if they could stay over next time. It was hard to say no to Adam, especially when he had Dog in his arms.

He rounded the corner and turned when he saw the sign for the Air Base. Curious as always, he glanced at the set of buildings over the gate and saw each flooded with lights. The tarmac itself was filled with trucks and cars, and even an ambulance. He wondered what they were covering up this time.

He returned his gaze back towards the road. But where there was previously only a mist of fog in front of him, the road free of any vehicles or bystanders, was the outline of a hooded figure smack in the middle. Adam paused, stopping his bike. The figure didn’t look that menacing. But he’d seen this scenario before play out in the many horror movies he’s seen with the Them each Halloween. As long as he didn’t engage with the figure, he should be okay. At least, he hoped.

“Hold on tight, Dog,” he mumbled, setting his bike on the highest gear. With that, he pushed off, biking faster than ever, to speed past the figure. And he did.

“Yes!” He cheered internally. One scary movie incident avoided.

Or so he thought. The fog began to darken and thicken around him, and the hooded figure appears in front of him again. Only this time, it’s close enough to see the figure pull down its hood, to reveal the head of a skull, shining in the moonlight.

“Ah!” Adam cried out, swerving out of the way to avoid the skull. The turn was sharp, and both he and his bike plummeted to the ground. What the hell was that? There was no time to look around. Adam crawled forward, pulling his leg out from underneath his bike. Dog pattered over to him, looking relatively unscathed from the fall.

“C’mon, Dog,” he urged his canine companion forward, and pushed himself up. They had to run as far away as they could.

His home was only a few minutes away; if they sprinted, they could make it. Adam willed his legs to move, in spite of all the bruises and scratches. He couldn’t hear the skull-figure behind him, but Adam could see the chilling fog biting below at his feet.

There! He saw his street and turned, towards the back door. He felt around for his keys, but couldn’t find them in his pockets. “Shit!” He cried out. He tried pounding at the door. “Mum! Dad!” He cried out. There was no response.

He scanned the yard, and saw the opening to the Hogback Wood. He could hide out in the Them’s clubhouse. He scooped up Dog into his arms, and ran in the direction of the forest. Up ahead was their hideout. He skirted past the chairs and hammock, and opened the door to his makeshift shed. He leaned back against the wall that was the furthest away from the opening and cradled Dog in his lap. He didn’t know what to do. The lamp that hung overhead began to flicker, until it shut off, entirely.

Dog whimpered and Adam shut his eyes. There’s a faint nasally breathing that’s growing louder and louder, and Adam knew it wasn’t from Dog. He doesn’t want to look up. He doesn’t want to reach his end. If this was like the lich in D&D, he’d cast Sunburst to ward him off.

But if Adam were to roll a D20 on success, he’d end up with a 1. Because when he opened his eyes, all he saw in front of him was the skull-headed figure.

Adam screamed. Now the Castle of Them was empty, as though no one was there at all.

A few minutes later, a bleary-eyed Arthur Young opened the back door of his house. “Who’s there?” He said, exhaustion evident in his voice. He could hear the wind chimes in the distance. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. With a shrug, Mr. Young closed the door, and made his way back upstairs to his wife.

Deirdre Young turned over on the bed to face her husband. “Have you heard from Adam?”

“He’s probably staying over at Majorie’s house with his friends. I’ll call in the morning.”

As he settled back to sleep, he swore he could have heard a faint bark.

* * *

_The next day – Tadfield Primary School _

Three bicycles parked at the bike rack in front of the school. Wensleydale was the first to point out the obvious. “Where’s Adam?”

“I bet you he overslept. We did get home late from our campaign.” Brian shrugged and made his way towards the entrance. “He’ll show up eventually.”

Mr. Crowley was deep in thought, looking down at his notes, when the Them entered the classroom. They’re a few minutes early and the first ones to arrive – they always are. Science class was their favorite, despite it being early in the morning. The board was blank for now. There’s a lamp on the desk, the bulb angled towards the back wall. Whatever today’s lesson is, it’s bound to be exciting. It always was with Mr. Crowley.

A few more students began to file in, and their teacher finally looked up, eyeing the Them with a smile. What’s sixty five thousand nine hundred and eighty three times five?” He pointed to Wensleydale. “Wensley, why don’t you have a go at it?”

It took him a few seconds to answer, but he came up with, “Three hundred and twenty nine thousand nine hundred and fifteen.” He was a natural at math – since all that stood between him and following in the family trade of accounting was time.

“Correctamundo. A word I have never used before and hopefully never will again. How about this one: What makes killer whales different from other whales?” Pepper raised her hand. “Alright, Pepper, off you go.”

“Killer whales do not succumb to the pressures of patriarchal social structures and are instead matrilineal, taking direction from a matriarch. We should take notes.” Pepper loved whales and often spoke of becoming one.

Crowley nodded in agreement. “That we should. One last question - how do you travel faster than light?”

There was silence in a now filled classroom. Crowley waited a few seconds before pointing at Brian. “What do you think, Brian?”

“I don’t think it’s possible, sir.”

“Nonsense! Everything’s possible. I mean, how do you think shadows are formed?” Crowley took a short stride to reach the light switch, shutting off the light. He then pressed a button on the lamp, illuminating the space behind them, and pulled down the screen for the smart board. “And that, my students, is the start of today’s lesson – Light and Shadows.”

As Crowley began his lecture, The Them couldn’t help but notice that the seat that Adam normally sat in remained empty.

* * *

_Tadfield Air Base _

Compared to the silence of last night, the morning after had the base in utter chaos. Beelzebub and their cronies might enjoy chaos, but Dr. Michael was above this. Gabriel expected the situation to be handled, and if there wasn’t anything Michael was better at than handling the situation right in front of her.

Her normally coiffed hair had a few strands out of place, and her once immaculate suit jacket had a few wrinkles, but Michael strode towards the quarantined section of the base with several scientists and agents scurrying behind her, all afraid of her wrath.

They all donned the procedural yellow HAZMAT suits, and waited for the elevator. The elevator shuddered to a halt and creaked open. The agents were armed with their rifles, the scientists with their notepads and pistols. Michael had her cell phone, a speed dial away from informing Gabriel of the damage.

When the elevator brought them to their floor, they all filed out, surveying the scene. What was once a sanitized, hospital-like hallway now had the appearance of an abandoned asylum. Lights flickered overhead, chairs and tables were overturned, and blood spatters haphazardly decorated the walls and ceilings. It was difficult to see through the dense and hazy smog.

Michael bent down to look at the bodies that were sprawled across the floor. She motioned for one of the agents to shine their light, and some of the scientists behind her gasped at the sight; if Michael had a reaction at all, it didn’t show as she prodded one of the bodies with her pen.

It was clear that whatever happened last night did a number on the facility. The damage varied from body to body. One was completely skeletal. Another looked emaciated, with thin, bony hands and gaunt eyes. There was one that looked like he drowned in a vat of oil, his skin slimy and yellowed. Several others had stab wounds, as though a fight had broken out amongst them.

“This is some sick shit,” one of the agents whistled. Michael shot him a withering glare, and he promptly stopped.

They moved forward to the chamber room. The glass divider had shattered, and where there was a circular door in the center was a gaping hole. It pulsated with life.

“So this is where they came from,” she murmured. She studied the wound-like opening for several moments, until someone tapped her from behind. It was one of the grunt scientists.

“Dr. Michael, there is no sign of the boy. The tank is empty, and so is his room. What do suggest that we do? ”

“I’ll take care of it. You, clean up this mess.”

This was a madhouse. It had to be dealt with. Michael had to take care of what was going on inside. But someone had to find _him_. She disliked working with the enemy, and these coworkers of hers had unsavory methods, but he got the job done. Just like she did.

She picked up her phone, and dialed Hastur.

* * *

_Hastur and Ligur’s car_

Two scruffy individuals, with black suits and ties to match, are roaring down the M25 on the road to Tadfield in a beat-up 1974 Chevy Nova. The blonde one in shotgun was waving his hands animatedly in the air.

“Personally, I think Michael’s a self-righteous bint, ordering us around like she’s above us or something. Like she’s not getting her bloody hands dirty, too!” Hastur just got off the phone with the head scientist. He’s not happy.

Ligur was driving the car and looked over to his partner every so often. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Working with the rival company made his skin crawl, as well.

“This truce is ridiculous. Acheron Inc. and Elysium Fields shouldn’t be working together. We’re private companies, for fuck’s sake!”

“At least the pay will be decent, this time around.”

“You think? You know how they’re always cutting corners. And if they get wind of how Michael’s cocked up this one…”

“That’s easy. She’ll place the blame on someone else. Us, for example.”

Hastur laughed. “Jokes on her. We’ll find the kid before anyone even knows he’s missing.”

They reach their destination, and Ligur pops open the lid of the trunk. “Masks, or no masks?” Inside were a frog and chameleon face mask.

Hastur reached for two guns, both .45 automatics. “Nah, we’ll go for civil first. If not, you know these will get them talking.” He handed one over to Ligur.

They’re at the former Hospital of Satanic Nuns, now called Tadfield Manor, a center for retreats and conferences. They walk through the middle of a paintball match, and casted glares of death to anyone who attempted to fire in their direction.

The reception hall was tastefully decorated, with pamphlets detailing their courses and initiatives. Two women are walking towards them, but when they saw their guns, backtrack in the opposite direction. Hastur called out, “Oi! You there! We’re looking for someone.” They cautiously approach. “He’s about, this high,” he gestured at the air around his hip, “And he has long brown hair. Kinda oily.”

“Like yours?” One of the women said. While her coworker snickered, she continued, “Look, we don’t give out that sort of information. You’d have to speak to our boss, and I’m sure she’d want nothing to do with you!”

The woman spoke on and on about the history of this manor and their rights, and Hastur ignored her. “You irritate me. Do you ever shut up?”

“Sir, I am a former member of the Chattering –“ She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, for Hastur pulled out his gun, and shot her straight through.

Theresa Garrulous fell to the floor, with blood pooling underneath her. Hastur looked to the other worker. “Now, do you want to find your boss and tell them we’re looking for a boy?”

She ran off to find former Sister Mary Loquacious.

* * *

_Tadfield Primary School_

“Ah, man, Adam’s going to be so jealous when he hears we got a sick club upgrade,” Brian cheered. The three of them walked behind Mr. Crowley, who was in charge of their after school science program. Their school finally hired a new librarian after months without one.

“I wouldn’t call it an upgrade, Brian. We still have to ask Mr. Fell if it’s okay to hold meetings while they renovate the clubroom.” Crowley held a heavy box in his arms, filled with random science teacher paraphernalia. He normally let the children determine what they wanted the meeting to be about, and ever since he accidentally slipped that he used to do magic tricks and illusions during his lesson, the Them were fixated on him performing a few tricks. With an educational twist, of course.

The library was empty, with the exception of a peroxide-blonde man in the corner, examining a book with what appeared to be a pair of surgical gloves and a magnifying glass. There was even a sign near the entrance that read – DO NOT TAKE BOOKS OUT OF THE LIBRARY. Wasn’t the point of a library to borrow books and take them out for one’s need and use? Crowley took him to be one of _those_ bookworms, and cleared his throat. “Mr. Fell?” He ventured.

It took a second longer for Ezra Fell to respond, and he turned away from his work to face the group. “Yes?”

Crowley took in his almost-angelic looking face, his piercing blue eyes, and kind smile. The new librarian was attractive, if in an unconventional way. He was glad he was wearing his signature shades, so he could hide the fact that he was staring. Crowley placed down his box of knick-knacks on the table, and reached out to offer a handshake. “I’m Anthony J. Crowley. Science teacher. You’re new here, and I wouldn’t want to impose, but the science club holds a meeting once a week, and I was going to show the kids here a few tricks with light. Would you mind if I hold a demonstration here?”

Mr. Fell raised an eyebrow. “Your kids?” The librarian said, teasingly, taking his hand to shake.

Crowley felt his face burn up with that comment. “My students,” he amended. Less than one minute with a new coworker, a cute one at that, and he was already embarrassing himself in front of him.

“Well, Mr. Crowley,” Ezra paused, “or should I call you Anthony?”

Crowley considered this. A first-name basis was a first in his book. He preferred to hide under the mask of professionalism with his fellow teachers. But Mr. Fell seemed different. “Anthony is fine. Should I stick to Mr. Fell for you?”

“Heavens, no. It’s Ezra. I must say, if you’re talking about doing magic tricks, I have a few up my sleeve. I’ve been meaning to get back into practice.” He procured a coin from his pocket.

“You don’t say, Ezra?” He said, with a smile. He was about to observe Ezra’s trick, when he heard a loud bang. The two adults and the Them turned around, and see Sergeant Shadwell burst into the room, followed by a younger man with glasses.

The younger man looked like the type to look easily spooked, especially when Shadwell raised his voice, and said, “It’s Newt’s first day on the job, and we have a missing boy on our hands! Mr. Crowley, do you mind if I borrow your kids and ask them a few questions?”

Ezra’s got a smile forming at the corner of his lips from that one. Crowley’s about to correct Shadwell, that no, he doesn’t have any kids, but police chief’s already ushered the Them out, without another word. 

…

“So let me get this straight,” Shadwell sat them down on a stray couch outside the library. “You were racing to get home, and for some reason, you all make it home, but Adam Young doesn’t?”

The children rushed to have their individual voice heard first.

“…To be fair, it was Adam’s plan –“

“…He lives all the way at the edge of town –“

“…He’s got Dog with him, he ought to be safe –“

Newt was struggling to jot this all down in his notepad.

Shadwell waited a few seconds before continuing, “Do any of you have any idea where he could have biked off to?”

Wensleydale answered, “He takes the back roads - Diagon Alley – to get home. Near the air base.”

“Diagon Alley – isn’t that the one with the witches?”

Pepper jumped in before Shadwell could say any more. “That’s what we call the street at the corner of Lexington Road. The quickest way to his house without cutting through the base.” Every one in town knew how Shadwell got about witches. Rumor had it that his family was once full of witch-hunters.

“Well then,” Shadwell eyed Newt, who gave a shaky thumb up, “I think we’re done here, lads. And lady.” He added. “Go home.”

“But we can help!” The trio chorused in protest.

“Yeah, well, if Diagon Alley’s full of witches like they say, it’s a job left up to the professionals.”

He started to shoo them towards the door. “No witchfinding for kids! Bike home. You got that?”

The children reluctantly agree, but once the Sergeant and Newt are out of earshot, Wensleydale leaned in and asked, “Hogback Lane?”

“Why’s that even a question? Of course.”

And so the trio biked in search of their friend.

* * *

_Young Household_

Anathema Device rang the doorbell once. Then twice. Then a third time for good measure. She knew she wasn’t late to tutor Adam. Just like her guardian, Madame Tracy, she took to many side jobs while proclaiming to herself to be descended from a line of fortunetellers. Tutoring was one of those jobs.

Something was off, though. There was some… inhuman energy mixed in with human ones. It felt unnatural, and made her shiver involuntarily.

A frazzled Deirdre Young finally answered the door. She grasped Anathema by the shoulders and cried out, “Have you seen my son?”

That took Anathema by surprise. “No… I’m here to tutor, like always. He left Madame Tracy’s home last night.”

“That’s what Majorie said on the phone, too. But where could he have gone?” Deirdre released Anathema from her hands, and let her straighten out. “I’m sorry, Anathema… now isn’t the time for me to be falling apart.” She looked at her apologetically. “I really don’t know what else to do – the Sergeant is questioning people around town, my husband has formed a small search party with some of his colleagues from work, and I think he might enlist the teachers too if Adam doesn’t show up soon enough.” She was wringing her hands in the air. “I called all the parents, called the school, and no one has seen him. How does he just… disappear?”

Anathema could see that she was on the verge of tears, and reached out to wrap her arm around Mrs. Young. “There, there,” she said. “Look, Adam can’t have gone far. There has to be somewhere that you haven’t just checked yet.” If modern tracking and searching didn’t work, witch tracking was sure to do the trick. But she couldn’t suggest that to Mrs. Young. She consoled the older woman for a few moments before suggesting, “Any places that Adam and his friends frequented? He might have a hideout or two in the woods.”

Deirdre sniffled. “Adam would never tell me where he went with his friends.”

“Just waiting around won’t do anything! Look, I’ll go with you.”

All of a sudden, the two women see a trio of bicycles zooming into the Young’s backyard. “Is that… the Them?” Anathema called out. “Hey kids! Where are you headed?”

The kids don’t stop to answer, but a faint, “Hogback Lane! We have to save Adam from witches,” was heard in the wind.

Anathema and Deirdre Young sprinted after the children.

The little hideout was only a few minutes away from Adam’s home. It was deserted – No sign of Dog or Adam.

They all began to overturn and search the place. The children moved furniture, Brian’s crown, Pepper’s sword, Wensleydale’s scales, and overturned the hammock, for any trace of the pair. Anathema lifted up her skirt and started searching through the bushes.

Deirdre walked towards the tiny, makeshift shed that was situated behind Adam’s “throne”. The sign above it read – ‘Castle of Them. Ye Witches Do Not Enter!’ There was a tiny, cracked light overhead that didn’t want to turn on. Inside the small shed it was dark, and so, she grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight, shining the light inside. A few photos hung up, and she focused on one in particular – her and Adam, smiling at his 11th birthday party. Tears dripped down her cheeks. “Adam! Adam! Come home, honey!”

Pepper came up behind her to ask if everything was all right, but then looked at the wall with the light still shining on it. Was it her imagination, or did was the shadow that formed on the wall a silhouette of Adam’s? The mop of curly hair atop the shadow was unmistakable. But before she could say anything, Mrs. Young turned off her flashlight, wiped away her tears, and looked back towards her. “Pepper, dear, you should all go home. It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”

Pepper wanted to mention that her parents didn’t believe in the antiquated style of traditional child rearing, but chose to table that comment for another time. She tried to argue, “Mrs. Young, Adam’s our friend! We can’t just not look for him!”

“We’d be better at it than Sergeant Shadwell! He’s more witchfinder than policeman,” Brian added.

“Adam could be in danger!” Wensleydale chipped in.

Deirdre was firm. “That’s more of a reason for you to stay indoors,” she looked over to Anathema, and called her over, “Anathema, could you make sure they get home safely?”

“Of course, Mrs. Young.” Anathema’s mind is whirling with ideas. She could use her theodolite, her pendulum – unconventional means of tracking by normal standards, but tried and true methods for the Device family.

Anathema’s leading away the children on their bicycles, when a car pulled up to the Young’s house, almost hitting her in the side. “Hey!” She yelled, finger pointed towards the driver, who, in this case, was Newt. She’s about to tell him off, but she noticed the sight of a bicycle perched on a rack behind the car. Her anger faded.

Shadwell’s the one who approached Mrs. Young. He looked somber. “We found a bicycle on the road near the air base.”

Deirdre observed it, and pulled away in shock. “It’s Adam’s bike. Is there any sign that he went through the base?”

Shadwell doesn’t have an answer for that. “Well, Mrs. Young, we can’t search the base until we obtain a warrant. That could take a few days.”

But she wasn’t having it. With an even breathe, she said, “My son’s life is on the line. I do not care what you do to obtain that warrant. Get it to me ASAP.” She placed her hands on her hips. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get my husband and start searching.”

* * *

_Tadfield Forest_

A group of adults are gathered in the Young’s backyard to begin the search. Shadwell ordered them to pair off. He goes with Newt, Mr. and Mrs. Young go together, and so forth.

Crowley’s paired up with Ezra, of all people. “So, I take that this was not how you expected your first day in Tadfield to go.” Both are bundled up for the October cold, carrying flashlights that matched.

“Not in the slightest.” Ezra’s smile was small, more reserved, to match the seriousness of the situation.

“Where’d you come from, before coming here? Tadfield isn’t exactly Britain’s Top 100 in best places to live in.”

Ezra waited a beat before answering, “Let’s just say… London was a bit too fast for me. Can’t be a bookseller who doesn’t want to sell books forever.”

“Huh… A bookseller who doesn’t sell books – what an oxymoron.” There was clearly something else, but Crowley didn’t want to pry.

“Indeed.”

They walk through the woods in silence for a few minutes, shining their flashlights on anything that moved. Crowley shone his in the middle of a pond. “Adam?” He called out, tentatively. But upon closer inspection, he saw it was only a duck. “Those blasted ducks,” he said, kicking a few rocks into the water.

Ezra chided him.

“I don’t understand why we’re searching here, if the bike was found over there!” Crowley gestured towards some direction he imagined the air base would be. “This is practically a wild goose chase… a wild duck chase, rather. If I were the one leading this search, we’d be there already.”

“You really care for these kids, Anthony.”

He shrugged. “It comes with teaching. Adam’s a good lad. Not the type who would get into trouble.”

“Do you have any of your own?”

Was he also asking something else? Crowley thought. He decided to be straightforward. “No, just me and my plants.”

The two carry their conversation as they walked deeper and deeper into the forest.

* * *

_Crowley’s home_

Crowley was exhausted. He spent the last five, or even six hours, combing through every inch imaginable of Tadfield forest. It was as though Adam Young vanished from thin air. He had to witness a hysterical Mr. and Mrs. Young cry and scream helplessly for their son. It was not a pleasant sight. He felt all the more guilty that his conversations with Ezra were what pulled him through the search.

He tossed the keys to his Bentley on the countertop, and pulled out some wine from the fridge. Crowley poured himself a glass and settled down on the couch. He ruminated on the events of the day, with each sip of his wine. He didn’t understand why few people wanted to search the air base itself. Even Shadwell was a little uneasy about obtaining a warrant. The bike was found near there, and it wasn’t as though the place was abandoned. But Crowley had his ways. He could saunter up to the guard at the tollbooth tomorrow and talk his way in, if he could. Ask a few questions. He was good at those. He snapped his fingers. That was exactly what he would do after his lessons.

A small crash – like the drop of a vase – pulled Crowley from his thoughts. He rose from his seat, and turned around. It sounded like the noise came from his greenhouse. Crowley grabbed whatever was closest to him to act as a weapon, which ended up being the spray bottle that he used on his plants, and walked back towards his greenhouse. “Hello?” He called out.

Another sound was heard, this time, a rustling of leaves. He shined a light in the direction of the subsequent noise, and isn’t prepared for what happened next.

A thin, pallid boy, with long, unkempt black hair, phased into the light, his form growing more corporeal until he’s one hundred percent solid. He’s got on a dirty hospital gown, and a terrified, ‘deer-in-headlights’ look about him.

Crowley dropped his spray bottle in shock.


End file.
